


Day 13 - Latex and Leather

by TheWeirdDane



Series: Kinktober 2017 [12]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Anal Fingering, Established Relationship, F/M, Kinktober, Kinktober 2017, Light Dom/sub, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Shameless Smut, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 22:36:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12351963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWeirdDane/pseuds/TheWeirdDane
Summary: Shepard comes home wearing a complete latex outfit, complete with riding crop and thigh-high boots. What's a poor turian to do but obey her every whim?





	Day 13 - Latex and Leather

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the late upload, I literally just finished this :( I'm so behind...

Day 13: Medical play | **Rimming** | Titfucking

* * *

”Get on your hands and knees, turian.”

Barely had she set foot in their apartment before the order fell from her lips. Garrus looked up at her from where he had been deeply invested in his magazine on guns and calibrations. He was sitting on the couch, leaned comfortably back against the back of it, with Shepard’s blanket covering his legs and feet.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Vakarian,” she said and shrugged out of her coat before walking into the living room, exposing that she was wearing something… intense, for lack of better word.

A red latex corset with black stripes and lace on the top and bottom tightened in her waist and pushed up her breasts, creating one hell of a cleavage. On her arms were matching latex gloves, and one hand was holding a riding crop much like the one he had used on her in the club Vita Nova. She was wearing tight fishnet stockings that disappeared into a pair of thigh-high boots clinging to her thighs in the most fantastic way. Covering her crotch was a skimpy tulle skirt that scarcely covered her most private parts.

Garrus’ mouth went dry, and his eyes raked up and down her body. She looked confident, and that just added to the raw sexiness she emitted. His mind was reeling, and he could feel his markings grow darker. She looked absolutely gorgeous, and sexy as hell.

“Where,” his voice broke, and he had to try again, “where did you get that outfit?”

“Doesn’t matter. What does matter,” she said and smacked the crop against her open palm while sauntering over to him; his eyes didn’t leave her for a second, and his hands clutched the magazine tighter, “is what will happen now.”

“And what is that?” He wasn’t a fool, he knew damn well what was about to happen. His heart was already beating faster, and if he wasn’t wrong, his plates were starting to--- yeah, they were shifting, definitely.

“What will happen,” she began and put a boot on the couch beside him, bending down and letting him get a real good look at her crotch – she wasn’t wearing anything under the skirt, and Garrus’ heart skipped a beat, “is that you will be addressing me as mistress or ma’am, and you will be obeying my every command. Are we clear?” she asked and let the riding crop stroke over his face, eliciting a shiver and a moan.

“Yes mistress.” It was little more than a sigh, and he looked up at her with such reverence it made her knees the slightest bit weak. She gently slapped his cheek with the crop, loving the sound that echoed throughout the silent apartment.

“Good boy. Now strip for me.”

Garrus wasn’t late in complying; he threw the magazine to the side and got up to undo his pants and tug off his shirt, leaving it all in a pile on the floor. Then he looked at her, feeling diffident and nervous. But she made a low, approving sound deep in her throat and clicked her tongue while pointing to a spot a good deal away from the couch and coffee table.

He obeyed without a word, walking to the middle of the living room and stood still, waiting for whatever was to come. And what was to come was her appraisal, he found out when she started circling him, looking him up and down and humming appreciatively. The latex creaked whenever she made a move, a delicious, crisp sound that had his mind spinning.

“Good posture, good stance, though you should spread your legs a little--- no, more, _more_ , yes, that’s good, perfect. You look like you’re enjoying yourself, Vakarian.” She pointed at his crotch where she could see his plates shift and part, and he felt his markings grow darker.

“Y-Yes, mistress. Is that a problem?”

“Quite the contrary,” she said, and her eyes sparkled, darkened with arousal and lust, “I’m happy that you’re enjoying yourself, _slave_.”

The insult thrown at him made Garrus shiver and inhale sharply, and his knees trembled the slightest bit.

“What do you want me to do, mistress?” he asked, his voice quivering. She hummed thoughtfully and stalked around him, letting the riding crop slide over a plate here, catch between the rims there. When she came up to his front, she moved so close their faces were only inches apart, and he could feel her breath ghost over his face.

“I want you to get on your hands and knees by the couch, leaning in over it and spreading your legs like a good little turian,” she murmured and leaned in to steal a rough and far-from-tender kiss that definitely had his knees shaking. He reciprocated the kiss, mouth plates moving awkwardly against her soft and delicate lips before his maw opened to allow his tongue to push out and into her mouth, making her sigh and press against him.

Her warmth and scent rolled over him, making him growl lowly. He wanted to keep her like this, but he was also desperate to have her order him around and do Spirits-know-what to him. She broke the kiss, grabbed his fringe, and pulled his head down enough to whisper in his ear.

“Today is a simple day, Vakarian. I just want you on your hands and knees, spreading your asscheeks and letting me use that little hole of yours as I please. What do you say to that?”

His mandibles flared, then went slack, exposing his teeth, and he rumbled out a “Spirits, yes, mistress, anything for you.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Now get to it.”

And get to it he did. Garrus went to kneel by the couch, leaning comfortably in over it and reaching back around to spread his buttocks. It was embarrassing but Spirits, that only heightened the arousal he was feeling. His hole, naked and completely on display for her, was something he didn’t usually consider, but last time she had licked him there, it had been so good, and he had wanted her to never stop.

There was no doubt in his mind that this time, it would be equally good, no matter what she decided to do to him.

“There’s a good slave,” she hummed and let the riding crop slide over his back and down over his exposed hole, giving it a gentle slap that made his entire body tense up, and a sultry growl escaped him. She slapped him again, this time on his right cheek, then once more on his left, and each slap made him utter a low snarl of pleasure.

But he kept his position, leaning in over the couch and keeping his cheeks spread. The riding crop landed on his ass a few more times, then on the back of his thighs, and he started trembling all over, pleasure steadily building in his lower stomach and his plates shifting enough to expose his slit. His breathing turned rugged and uneven, coming in short, sharp gasps.

“You’re doing so well for me, aren’t you?”

“T-Thank you, mistress,” he panted, and sweat started beading on his forehead. He liked knowing he was doing a good job, thrived on the praise.

“Your hole looks so tight and ready for me. What do you think?” His heart skipped a beat, and Garrus choked out a sound somewhere between a moan and a whimper. An outright _whimper_ ; that got Shepard’s breath to hitch in her throat.

“Yes, mistress, I think it… I think it’s ready for you, too,” he mumbled.

“Speak up, slave,” she ordered and slapped his asshole again, this time a bit harder to make him gasp and jerk forward.

“Yes, mistress! It’s ready for you,” he said, this time much louder, and felt his hide heat up, talons digging more into his cheeks and spreading them wider. He was trembling, and his breathing had turned labored and shallow.

“Then I think it’s about time you get your reward,” she practically _purred_ , and oh Spirits, what that voice did to him!

He turned his head to see her go down on her knees behind him, and then there was her tongue – so warm and deliciously _wet_ and dripping with saliva – on his hole, and he jerked forward with a loud gasp, leaning his cheek against the cool leather of the couch.

She licked around his hole, not really touching it where he needed it the most, and it was driving him crazy, but oh, if it wasn’t the most heavenly feeling. He whined low in his throat and pushed back against her mouth, resulting in him getting a smack on his ass with one of her hands.

“Stay still,” she ordered, voice low and almost threatening, and Spirits, how it got his heart to pound so aggressively and his stomach to tie into tight knots, made his cock protrude from his slit, the tip just barely touching the couch.

“Yes, mistress,” he breathed out and did his hardest to lay still, hands keeping his cheeks spread so she could use his hole in whatever way she pleased.

That way was by finally, _finally_ , touching it directly with her tongue and making him groan lowly, arching his back and trying _so hard_ not to push back against that devious mouth.

“Oh Spirits, mistress,” he panted and squeezed his eyes tightly shut, talons digging into his hide and not quite breaking it but making considerable depressions.

“Like it, slave?”

“So much, mistress,” he whispered and, when Shepard dripped saliva on his hole to smother it all over, moaned loudly, unable to stay still, and pushed back against her face. It seemed she wasn’t so keen on him not moving anymore as she just kept licking his hole, swirling her tongue around on and probing at it. He growled and rolled his head so his forehead was pressed against the couch, breathing hard through his nose.

Her tongue danced around before pushing inside, making him gasp and moan loudly once more.

“Spirits, Jane,” he whispered, momentarily forgetting her title, and for his insubordination, he got a hard smack to both cheeks by her hand and she pulled back, writhing a pathetic whine from the pleasure-ridden turian.

“I did not just hear that.”

“N-No, mistress, I’m sorry!”

“Good slave,” she praised and started licking his hole again, pushing her tongue back inside and starting a series of gentle but deep thrusts. It made his heart still, and he gasped loudly, holding his breath as she pushed all the way inside before letting it out in a shaky sigh. He could feel his hands tremble, his knees buckle with the exertion of keeping himself upright even as he leaned against the couch.

“Mistress, it feels so good,” he moaned and spread his legs wider, allowing for her to push her tongue deeper in his ass, and he pressed his forehead harder against the couch, growling out loud in pleasure and pushing back against Shepard’s mouth. The warm, wet muscle wriggling inside him, making him shiver and his voice quiver as he moaned out her name; the sounds her tongue made as it repeatedly thrust into him, loud and squelching and filthy to a degree that got his hide to heat up greatly; her panting and breathing hard, breath rolling along his hide.

It was all so god damn perfect, the only thing missing was a hand around his hard, aching cock---

He dared not let go with just one hand, but it seemed that Shepard was agreeing with him, as if she had read his mind, because suddenly, there was a small, warm hand wrapping around his cock, and he gasped loudly, bucking mindlessly into her hand and whimpering pathetically when she pulled out her tongue to instead lean up over him and rasp against his ear, “Like that, pet? My hand on your cock and tongue in your ass?”

He nodded, desperate for her to resume her ministrations, and breathed out “Spirits yes, mistress, it feels so good, please please please don’t stop, I’m begging you---”

“ _Begging_ me, you say?”

He felt his hide grow even darker and he turned his head to nuzzle her cheek, breathing erratically.

“I’m begging you,” he repeated in a low whisper, voice wrung-out, and nibbled at her jaw, making her chuckle and push a finger into his ass, earning her a throaty moan and a full-body shiver. She moved it hard and fast, already well-lubricated from her tongue, and quickly she added another, scissoring him and pumping him with her other hand.

“You’re being so good for me, slave, I think you deserve to come. What do you say?”

“I-If you think so, mistress.”

She hummed thoughtfully and started stroking him faster and faster until a dull ache settled in her wrist, but she was determined to continue. She matched her thrusts with her strokes, pulling moan after moan and whimper after whimper from his parted mouth plates, his mandibles slack with arousal.

The fingers in his ass stroked hard, fast, and deep while the hand on his cock pumped him firmly, squeezing around the base and slacking the pressure as she moved towards the tip, her fingers expertly gliding over the ridges and folds and throbbing veins.

Suddenly, she brushed against a spot inside him that made him see stars, and he inhaled sharply and greedily, pushing back into her hand while also trying to thrust into her hand. His entire body tensed up while his hands squeezed his asscheeks tighter, and he choked out a sound.

He could practically _hear_ Shepard’s smug smile.

“Hit something good, slave?” she purred, and he nodded frantically.

“Yes, mistress, oh Spirits yes!”

She continued thrusting her fingers, now letting the tips stroke over the little bundle of nerves, and he was reduced to a sweaty, panting mess that could only choke out incoherent sounds and faltering whimpers.

Occasionally, she thought she heard him whimper out ‘Mistress’ and ‘Spirits!’ but it wasn’t something she could be sure of. What she could be sure of, however, was that his muscles at one point clamped down on her fingers, his cock started throbbing, and he let out strings of pleas and moans that were void of shame, let out as carefree as if no one was listening.

“Yeah, that’s right, come for me, pet,” she snarled against his ear and thrust her fingers harder and faster while her hand on his cock squeezed firmly while pumping, and it only took one, two, three, four, five more strokes before he spilled into her hand with a loud, tight moan, and his ass clenched hard around fingers. She pressed against the little bundle of nerves, rubbing it firmly until he was completely spent and slumped against the couch.

Then she slowly pulled out her fingers, chuckling when it elicited a soft gasp and then a whine, and she lifted her cum-stained hand to his mouth plates, ordering him to “Lick, slave,” and surprisingly, he obeyed. The strokes of his tongue were languid and light – he was still in post-coital bliss – and only sloppily licked up his own cum, but it was good enough for Shepard.

He tasted slightly bitter-sweet but it wasn’t a bad taste, just unusual; it wasn’t often that Shepard made him clean up his mess like this.

When he was done, she praised him by rubbing just below his fringe and calling him “Good pet” and telling him what a wonderful job he did.

No longer caught in the heavenly feeling of release, he turned his head to look at Shepard, his breathing still slightly erratic.

“Thank you, mistress,” he whispered and sought to nuzzle her cheek. She leant in close so it was possible, and they stayed like that for a little while before Shepard got up and helped Garrus on his feet as well.

After a nice, long shower, they both sat down on the couch, Garrus to pick up his magazine where his reading had been cut off, and Shepard to cuddle up against her boyfriend.

It wasn’t even evening yet, but they were still ready to go to bed, and they might even have dozed off, both of them.

But it was okay; nothing important was awaiting them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed <3


End file.
